


a sky regrets nothing

by Lake (beyond_belief)



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Prompt Fill, Unexpected gentleness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:54:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24042418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beyond_belief/pseuds/Lake
Summary: It's only after she's thought about how unexpectedly good it feels does she register that it's Kenobi's lap, and Kenobi's hands.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Asajj Ventress
Comments: 8
Kudos: 98
Collections: Hurt Comfort Exchange 2020





	a sky regrets nothing

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadaras](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/gifts).



> Hi Shadaras, I hope you enjoy this treat!

The first thing Asajj registers is that she must be lying in someone's warm lap, because there's a body beneath hers, and warm hands are gentle on her upper arms. It's only after she's thought about how unexpectedly good it feels does she register that it's Kenobi's lap, and Kenobi's hands. 

"Don't," he says sharply, when she tries to move, and indeed the flare of pain and wave of dizziness support his command. Softer, he murmurs, "You've been dosed with something. I haven't been able to determine what yet, and I thought it better to allow you a softer surface upon which to convulse than the cold floor."

"Too nice… to your enemies," Asajj manages to say. Her tongue feels entirely too large for her mouth, and her throat feels as though flames are licking at it. She recognizes that she can't move her legs, but it's a distant observation, and she doesn't feel the panic she thinks she should. 

Kenobi's hand sweeps gently over her shoulder. "It will pass."

 _This paralysis, or your tenderness?_ she doesn't ask. Her hands still move, albeit slowly and painfully, and she tightens them just slightly on Kenobi's knees. His chuckle at that is soft, and his hand strokes next over her cheek. 

"You can try to kill me next time, my dear," he says. 

Asajj keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to see whatever gentle expression might be upon his face, and concentrates on her breathing. They'd been fighting in a nearly dilapidated ship, crashed on a warm, sandy planet. It's still warm, so she's certain they're still there. There's shade, so they're likely still inside the dead ship. Perhaps there'd been some toxin on some metal edge she'd brushed against. 

"That seems to me the most likely explanation," Kenobi says, as though she'd spoken aloud. Maybe she had. 

"Why haven't you killed me?" she asks. "I would have, were our positions reversed."

"Would you truly? And here I though you enjoyed our sparring sessions as much as I."

At that, she does crack open one eye, and sees Kenobi smiling down at her. It's too much, so she retreats into darkness again. "You know my mission is not to kill you," he continues, "but often to obtain something which you are intent upon being in the path of."

"You think I am not aware of that," she mutters. Kenobi's hands touch her face again, lightly, then run over her shoulders. It's so soft it raises goosebumps on her skin. She tries again to move her feet and fails. 

Kenobi says, "Stay calm. It should pass," and Asajj scowls in his direction. Under her back, she can feel the muscles of his thighs flex as he shifts his legs slightly. 

"How does this end, Kenobi," she says, more a hissed statement than a question. 

"With you free of this toxin and escaping this sand-swallowed ship, clearly," Kenobi says, his voice dry. 

Asajj exhales, harder than normal. Then she feels Kenobi's hand on her throat, and a thread of panic races through her quicker than she can control, and she tenses. "Relax, darling," he murmurs. "Honestly, if I were going to kill you, I would have done it by now."

"I suppose it isn't like the Jedi to draw it out."

His thumb is soft on the side of her neck. "I suppose it isn't like an assassin to be helpless, so we're both subverting some expectations today."

She hisses, but Kenobi only strokes her neck again. "I won't tell anyone if you won't," he says, and his voice is like a warm blanket being drawn all around her. And truly, she's suffered worse, in worse places than the lap of a Jedi such as Kenobi - and just thinking that is enough to let her relax. 

"There," he breathes, running soft fingertips over the front of her throat, "let's both be quiet a moment."

Asajj nods, a tiny movement. Kenobi strokes the rough pads of his fingers over her throat again, such a light touch she barely feels it, the continues the same slow and gentle caress over each of her collarbones in turn, then down her arms all the way to her wrists. She feels her pulse pounding, knows Kenobi must be able to feel the rush of blood as well, but he does nothing more than stroke gently over each of her fingertips. It makes her wonder where her lightsabers are.

He murmurs, "Only a few meters away, my dear." Then he repeats his series of soft touches. Asajj tries to remember the last time someone touched her like this, and cannot. Her life is harsh and pleasure is quick, fleeting; it's not this warm air and warm stretch of Obi-Wan Kenobi sitting up against a broken segment of a wall, sheltering her from a rough edge until she can move for herself.

Not for the first time, she feels the pulse of the Light, the thing that tries to insist to her that power isn't the only thing in the Universe. Which is nonsense, even the Jedi want power, just couched in sweeter terms. Obi-Wan would still kill her if it came to that. 

"You would though, yes?" Asajj asks. "Kill me before you locked me up, left me to rot in some prison somewhere?"

It takes him a moment to speak. When he does, his voice is low. "If it were kinder."

"You are far too preoccupied with kindness," she tries to say, but the words disappear into a soundless exhalation as he touches her face, tracing a meaningless pattern from her forehead down her temples, a slow oval around her eyes. It's nearly enough to make a part of her want to sleep for real; she thinks he might let her.

Instead, Asajj tries to move her feet again, and it's easier this time. "If you were to pretend to be immobilized a while longer, I would pretend in kind," Kenobi says, his voice now casual once again. 

After a few more moments pass, she replies, "We both know we serve much different Masters."

"No need for them to know."

"My Lord would know," she says, "and it would be a thing he could use against me. There is no kindness between us." She sits up, and Kenobi's hands fall to his sides. He does not try to stop her as she moves away, grabbing her 'sabers as she goes.


End file.
